


too late

by gingergenower



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Disassociation, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Self-Hatred, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Winn Needs a Hug, dead girl walking (reprise) inspired for the musical nerds out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10798467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingergenower/pseuds/gingergenower
Summary: “No, no, it can’t be like that-”“Sometimes that’s just the way it happens-”“Well, then what’s to stop it from happening to me?”-Supergirl, 1x10Winn snaps.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right, this is one of the darker stories I’ve posted- please read the tags and make sure you’re okay to read this one, I don’t want to trigger anyone or mess with your mental health. It certainly took me to some places while writing it.

The whole room’s still, like there aren’t twenty people in it. No one’s said a word for six minutes.

They thought the coms were down when Supergirl’s voice cut out- Winn scrambling to reconnect with her, rebooting the system- and none of them saw it coming. Alex had to call it twice; they talked over her the first time she said it. Winn thinks she might still be holding the body. They haven’t heard from her since. 

He has no idea what Kara’s corpse will look like. She didn’t bleed and bullets bounced off her like scrunched up balls of paper, the missiles of a high school classroom. Are Kryptonians like humans in death? Will she be pale and gaunt and lifeless, the skin that cradled a person he loves letting her down a final time?

To his left, a screen pings with a notification. He looks before he even knows he’s moving, trying to read before he can focus on the words, nearly a full minute before he can take it in. His hands are shaking, but they find a way to type. “Sir, CADMUS are broadcasting another video.”

J’onn sits somewhere behind him. “Play it.”

Pulled up on the screens, it’s rushed, unedited, Lillian Luthor’s warped voice declaring victory. The alien monster that ruled over National City with unchecked power is dead. Human are free. The worst is over. The rest will run and hide, but CADMUS will find them.

Winn pulls out his cell and texts Lyra. _Hide at mine._

The video finishes, calling on humanity to unite against the enemy. Winn tugs his keyboard closer and starts sifting through the video details, following satellites and false IP addresses to try and trace it.

If they were heavy-handed, they’ll pay.

Vasquez sits down next to him, speaking low. “What’re you doing?”

“Tracking the feed.”

J’onn starts. “Agent Schott, I think you should-”

“If you say go home, sir.” Winn doesn’t look at J’onn, staring straight ahead, and it’s only then Winn realises he’s not crying. He hasn’t shed a tear, and he knows that’s not normal but he can’t think straight enough to know he should be worried. 

He’s got to track the video, he can’t go anywhere.

“I was going to say find out what you can about the video.”

Winn nods, fingers finding the keyboard again, and J’onn’s hands out orders in the background, commanding that the FBI are informed emergency protection protocols need to be implemented for the aliens of National City.

Vasquez puts her hand on Winn’s arm, jaw locked in place, over-bright eyes ready for a fight. “Can I help?”

“…analyse the video? Look for anything that’s a clue, background noise… whatever there is to find, find it.”

She nods, logging in to her own computer and getting stuck in.

Tracing the path of untraceable videos by CADMUS is so routine he almost stops paying attention to what he’s doing, listening to J’onn before he retreats to his office. He leaves the room when he’s revived it, hands balled into fists and determined chatter filling the space like it never happened, like it’s not true.

Kara Danvers is dead. It’s true.

His cell buzzes in his pocket, and he glances at the text, one hand still typing. Lyra’s already at his apartment. He doesn’t answer, already back at the keyboard and running with what he finds until he runs out of paths to follow.

CADMUS scattered the signal, they used different devices to project it, they messed with it until it was unrecognisable. Impeccable, even in triumph. Winn should want to throw something at the screen, punch a wall, scream and rip out his hair and dare the universe to understand what he’s feeling, to care what this means. He doesn’t want any of that.

He stares at the screen, numb.

Taking a new approach, he stretches his neck and finds all of Lillian Luthor’s information, credit card history, known cell phone numbers, old addresses, social security number, photos, professional websites and personal online posts before Lex.

One photo catches his eye. It’s Lena, but younger and unsmiling. If Winn thought he’d won, if Winn thought CADMUS were defeated, he’d call Lyra.

Lena’s profile is thick with information because she’s never had anything to hide. Shoving his headphones in the port of his computer and setting a new programme up, he enters her cell number into it. She leaves her battery in her cell because she isn’t paranoid, so it only take a few seconds for him to decrypt her system and get into her contacts, scrolling through them on the screen like they’re his own. He runs every single number she has saved, but they all come up clean.

Tapping the table, he’s trying to figure out how to pull deleted information off the SIM without physical access to the cell when the screen changes. It’s ringing- Unknown Caller.

He has maybe thirty seconds to bypass security and override satellites and he gets a cell number with four seconds to spare. The digits pop up on the screen, small, on the left hand side.

Lillian Luthor’s cell number. She’ll probably ditch it sooner rather than later, for another burner phone most likely. He doesn’t have long. Entering the number into his system, it takes seconds to ping off three cell towers and triangulate a location.

She’s on the outskirts of the city, ten minutes in the car to some abandoned warehouse, and it reminds him of the bunker Kara said she was kidnapped to.

Copying the number into his own cell as a contact, texting himself the coordinates, he wipes his computer’s memory. They’re all wary of each other even inside the DEO now, and Kara mentioned her own worry only a few weeks ago that she thought there might be more CADMUS agents in the DEO. He’ll only trust J’onn with this.

He tells Vasquez to keep combing the video and to go to J’onn if she finds anything, but he doesn’t think it likely. Professionally, Lillian Luthor is faultless. It’s Lena tripped her up.  
Near running up the steps to J’onn’s office, Winn stumbles into the office, but J’onn’s got his back turned to the door and doesn’t notice Winn come in. He’s on the phone.

“-a kill order isn’t appropriate. Luthor’s ruthless, but person to person she’s not dangerous. Arrest on sight would be more suitable. She’s an enemy of the state and she needs to stand trial for what she’s down. An example needs to be made of her.”

Winn stops. He’s not sure what he thought would happen.

Kara dies, and the government protects her killer. CADMUS murders innocent refugees in this country and calls it liberty. Terrorists broadcast untraceable videos declaring war on the aliens of this city, and their leader gets to live.

Winn slides his cell in his back pocket.

J’onn loved Kara like a daughter, but apparently he can detach himself entirely for the sake of professionalism. Winn can’t.

Taking a step backwards he knocks into the doorframe, and J’onn turns and sees him. He holds up a finger for Winn to give him a moment.

“Yes, I heard. We’re waiting with baited breath.” Putting down the phone, J’onn pulls out a tablet, typing while he talks. “Have you found something?”

“The video’s a dead end so far.”

“Anything else?”

“Vasquez is working on clues in the video, but I don’t think it’s going to come to much. I’m going to see if I can find something on Lillian Luthor.”

“Yes, do. Superman’s coming, by the way. He should be here in about ten minutes, and I need a word with both of you.”

“Ok.”

Winn retreats out of the office, walking slow like J’onn won’t read his mind if he creeps away, but J’onn doesn’t even look back up from the screen in front of him. At the bottom of the steps, he breathes out and turns left.

He’s not even sure why he’s heading to the mainframe, what his plan is, what he actually thinks he’s capable of doing, but by the time he’s there. He texts James.

_Meet me in the locker room in 10._

James responds like he was waiting for it. _Ok._

Patching himself into the mainframe, he logs in and overrides his own safety protocols. He wriggles through the tight loops he set, finding himself deeper and deeper in the system without setting off the alarms until he has the authority of an administrator. From here, he’s looking at the settings of the entire system. He could change employee salaries, open up all the prison cells remotely, release all the information the DEO has onto Wikipedia.

He takes a deep breath, staring at the screen.

Enlisting James might be smart, he knows that. James might feel the same way, but he’s a superhero and he’s called the Guardian. The people love the Guardian, Winn can’t ask him to risk everything they’ve worked for. Superman is all about truth, justice and the American way; he won’t help. Winn already knows where J’onn stands.

If any of them find out, get the change to stop him, they’ll succeed, but Winn never said he was a superhero. He never promised to be that good.

Leaning over the keyboard, he overhauls the lockdown protocols and resets who has authority over it- him, and only him.

Lillian Luthor is dead.

***

Eleven minutes later, lockdown initiates itself.

Winn knows because he get a text alert when he’s already three blocks away, backpack slung over his shoulder. The bag’s heavy, but he doesn’t really feel is, he’s just walking. He even saw Superman go in the DEO just as he left, so he’s trapped in there with the rest of them.

Peeling the back off his cell, Winn pops out the battery and shoves the pieces in his back pocket, because he’s not Lena Luthor and he is paranoid.

He always thought Kara should get better locks, but it’s perfect for him now. Bracing himself against the door, he throws his weight into it and on the second try it snaps open and he stumbles into her apartment.

It looks like it always does- bright and airy. He bites his lip, shutting the door and fixing the door chain in place.

She left a mug by the sink, but everything else is the same. Nodding, gathering himself, he walks into the living room and puts the bag down on the couch. It’s alright. It’s just an apartment.

He sets up some defences on Kara’s laptop in case the DEO tries to trace his signal and signs back into his DEO account. He just needs to see if Lillian’s coordinates have changed-

With the details on his cell.

Cursing himself, he puts the battery back in and prays that no one has figured out who was behind the DEO inexplicably locking itself down yet. The FBI could be on this place in minutes.

When it runs on, he ignores all the texts and missed calls and copies up Lillian’s number, but he can’t trace it. She’s removed the battery or ditched it. Just as he’s about to do the same, Lyra’s name fills the screen. He stares at it, hesitating, but he can’t leave her worrying. It’s the fourth time she’s called.

“ _Winn_?”

“Hey,” he says, and he knows the DEO could be tracking him right now if they suspect anything. “Are you ok?”

“ _I’m fine- where are you? Your boss called me, he said you aren’t at work, it sounded like something was going on_ -” 

“Everything’s fine,” he says, wedging his cell between his ear and his shoulder. Both hands free, he logs out and switches off the laptop.

“ _Supergirl’s dead_.”

The words shake him. He’s sat in the exact spot he first saw Kara in her costume, and he closes his eyes. “I know.”

“ _Where are you_?”

“I got locked out of the building at work, I’m just trying to figure out what happened. I’ll be back when I’ve got it sorted.”

Lyra doesn’t say anything for a long few seconds. “ _Call me tonight_?”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“… _good. Hurry_.”

“I will, sweetheart.”

He barely hangs up before he yanks the battery back out. J’onn won’t find him. No one will.

Hand stuck in the bag he packed at the DEO, he pulls tools and one of the remote devices out of it. Modification takes about twenty minutes, carefully rearranging wiring and incorporating new parts, but once he’s done he screws the back panle back on and sits it on the couch next to him. It had a range of around 30 yards. Now it’ll detonate anything up to two kilometres away.

He’s held explosives before, but nothing he ever planned on blowing up. If Kara were here- and for half a second he’s sure he sees a fluttering red cape in the window, but it’s just a curtain- she wouldn’t recognise him as her best friend. She wouldn’t recognise him at all. Murder wasn’t an option for her, she believed in the good in people and she wanted to save _Astra_ , for god’s sake.

If anyone finds out why he’s doing this he’ll destroy everything she did. No one can know.

Hands running through his hair, he stares around the apartment. He could stop. He could go back to the DEO and pretend he has no idea what happened and cover up the lockdown, leave a virus in the system that’ll eat the trail of evidence he left and make it look like a malfunction. No one will ever know; no one will die. He’ll hand over what he knows to J’onn, and they’ll arrest Lillian Luthor and then-

His gaze falls on that coffee mug.

-they’ll go to Kara’s funeral.

Someone’s already dead. Kara Danvers is dead.

His chest heaves. He struggles to gasp in air, and he thinks he’s crying, maybe hyperventilating- his chest hurts and she’s dead.

He’ll never hear her laugh again. She’ll never smile to herself because he’s said something obvious about her being brilliant and she’s embarrassed. They’ll never get in another food fight over cookie baking, they’ll never cry in that ugly snot-and-red-eyes kind of way on each other’s shirts again, they’ll never have the same idea at the same time and snap their fingers at each other, grinning.

He thinks he’s crying but his face is dry and he hears himself. He’s laughing, so hard it hurts. The apartment echoes with the sound of it, and still laughing, he pulls the explosives out of the bag to connect them to the detonator.

It’s too late now. He’s got to see this through.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to Fandom_Overload7890 for kicking my butt into gear to get writing :)

The warehouse seems deserted- Winn expected nothing less.

He picked up a new cell on the way, head down and hood up, as he downloads some basic hacking software and codes it to override security systems.

J’onn must have set the FBI on his trail by now, Winn’s been radio silent for hours and the DEO shutdown is obviously his doing. That system’s practically his he’s messed with it so much. Supergirl never had to hide from the FBI, so he doesn’t have much experience in trying, but if they go for his tech he left his cell in Kara’s apartment.

He sets of the alarms next door with a strategic rock thrown through a window, and several CADMUS operatives give away their positions- loitering on the street corners, a couple coming out of the warehouse itself.

Now he’s here, hitching the bag higher on his shoulder, he’s wondering how the DEO missed these idiots.

Figuring out the warehouse cameras at the back of the building, which is far more advanced than an empty building warrants, he turns their alarms off and sets the cameras to a delay. He gives himself fifteen minutes.

The infrared camera system he plugs into the cell for a better view not only gets him into the building completely undetected, but it finds the door into the maze of corridors in the basement.

It takes him two tries to figure out the keypad code, but then he’s in and he creeps down the steps.

Air cold, he huddles into himself. 

He took a leaf out of Alex’s book on this one- a dead man’s switch. If he passes it off to Lillian, she’ll think she has the control and it’ll keep her distracted, but if he puts a few rooms between him and her and the bomb, he’s got a second remote detonator.

Looking her in the eye would be too hard. Pressing a trigger seems harmless, so it’s easier. If she wanted a fair trial, she shouldn’t have written her cruelty into the laws of this war. She’s the one who wanted to use terror and make soldiers of civilians. This is the world she made. This is the world she gets to die in.

He narrowly misses a patrol of the corridors, their heat signatures popping up on the screen so fast he barely has time to dodge into the nearest room.

Holding his breath in the dark, he watches their heart signatures pass the room by, and he exhales. Feeling around for the light switch, he flicks it on. He’s in some kind of armoury, handguns up to bazookas.

This is why Winn’s doing it. They’d use these on civilians. They used these on Kara.

Without any real conscious thought in it, he snatches up a handgun and checks it’s loaded, because he’s not qualified to handle firearms but Maggie taught him the basics one games night anyway, both of them tipsy, so Alex hammered it all into his head the next day.

Shoving the gun in his belt, always heavier than he expects, he scans outside. It’s clear.

The deeper into the building he gets, the more his whole body ripples with tremors, and he’s not sure it’s the cold. He checks the time- he has six minutes left before the cameras unfreeze.

There’s a distant shout, somewhere behind him through a door, and he throws himself sideways, hiding behind an exposed ventilation shaft.

“The alarms aren’t working,” a soldier shouts to another, bursting through the doors and running straight past Winn. “But this is a code blue, code blue-”

Winn slips into the next door he sees, and about thirty soldiers swarm past him, down the corridor and out the way he came. He’s not sure what strange, brilliant luck this is, but he takes it. He’s not sure why they’d think he’s out there.

After another couple of minutes, when he’s sure he’s clear, he heads for the only other faint heat signature the building’s giving off.

Sure enough, he finds a door so thick and heavy looking the room could be a nuclear bunker. He glances through the pane of glass, maybe four inches thick, and it’s Lillian Luthor, sat at a desk, alone.

There’s a keypad, but he pops it open and starts messing with the wiring inside.

They relied on the door, not the technology keeping it shut. If he knows Lillian Luthor, he’d say the door could hold out a Kryptonian and was probably designed for it.

He crosses the wiring, and the light blinks green, and the lock clunks open.

As he’s reaching for the handle, there’s a shout of surprise behind him- Winn yanks the door open and throws himself in, slamming the door on a hail of bullets. Fingers shaking, he taps in a random code in the keypad on the inside, and the automatic defence mechanism snaps it locked. It’s the same as the DEO.

One of the soldiers shoots the glass, but it doesn’t even crack.

He’s trapped. Pulling the gun out and training it on Lillian’s chest, he tries to get his breath back. 

She smirks, leaning against her desk. “My, my. I must say I’m surprised- I did not expect to see _you_.”

“You know who I am?”

“It’s my business to know all of the DEO’s employees, Winslow,” she says, smoothing her hair down.

It’s like he isn’t pointing a gun at her, but he wants her scared. He wants her to know he’s going to pulverise her, so many body parts they won’t count them all.

Him, too. There won’t be anything left to bury.

Looking her in eye, face to face with the monster, he can’t bring himself to care about his funeral. He wants her to burn.

“I suppose Alexandra was supposed to reach me first and this was some miscalculation?”

Winn stares at her. “What?”

She taps a screen behind her, the camera feeds restored. “Don’t play games. She’s on her way.”

They sent Alex after him, the only DEO agent not trapped in their building.

For a single second, for the first time, he wants to cry. She should be grieving, she should be at home with her mum- not here, chasing down Kara’s ghosts-

She’ll find them soon, she’s on her way. She can’t get any closer or she’ll get hurt in the blast. Winn’s out of time.

Gun stuck back in his belt, bag dropped in the space between them, Winn presses his thumb down on the dead man’s switch and holds it out. Too late now.

Lillian’s self-satisfied smirk, that superior gaze, fades. She glances between the bag and the detonator. She’s starting to understand.

“Her sister was Kara.”

“I know that.” Crossing her arms, she tries to seem relaxed. “Killing me won’t stop CADMUS.”

“The DEO will stop CADMUS,” Winn says, and he’s certain of it. Removing Lillian is a stab in the liver. The DEO just needs to make sure CADMUS bleeds out and then clean up the mess after. “I’m stopping you.”

“If that’s a bomb-”

“It’s a bomb.”

She stares at him. “You’ll die too.”

He points a thumb over his shoulder at the window, where she’ll still be able to see the soldiers shouting and shooting. “I know that.”

She straightens up, backing away from the bag like it’ll help her flesh and bone and blood body survive.

There’s more gunfire outside, but Winn doesn’t look. It might be a good thing he’s trapped, that Alex is closing in on him, that he just need to drop the thing and die too. Dying means he’ll never have to live with it. Dying means he’s not his father. Dying means seeing Kara again, maybe.

All he needs is to let go. “You know, I made her suit.”

Lillian blinks.

“We went through a few different ones. You probably wouldn’t think she’d care all that much, but she was really picky. It looked great in the end, though.”

Her jaw drops. “This is about _Supergirl_?”

“This is about Kara.” 

Saying her name settles something in his brain. Everything outside the door’s fallen quiet, and he’s breathing easier. He was numb, but now’s he’s just peaceful. It’s blissful. He’s sure he hasn’t felt the pain he should’ve, but it doesn’t matter too much anymore. It’s too late now and he doesn’t mind. He closes his eyes.

He could let go.

His fingers relax.

One last breath.

Something slams into the door and a voice screams his name.

Lillian gurgles, an odd noise in the back of her throat, and crumbles to her knees. She’s bloodless, staring at the door. Winn looks.

He’d be ready for Alex; not anyone else, no more death, not today. Winn, open the door. He’d be ready for J’onn; there’s another way, he doesn’t have to do this. He’d be ready for James; don’t, no, Winn don’t, don’t do it-

He’s not ready for her.

Eyes wide and horrified, flitting between the detonator and Winn’s face, Kara’s breath fogs up the glass. “What are you doing?”

He turns away, staring at Lillian, but it’s like his lungs are stone, he can’t take in oxygen. His whole body shakes, his palms sweating, and he might drop the detonator anyway.

“Hey, no- Winn, look at me.”

There’s enough explosives in that bag to destroy the building.

“Winn, please, Winn, look at me-” 

Winn realises Lillian’s scrambled towards the bag and opened it, but she’s staring at the bomb with no idea what to do. All those murders and she can’t diffuse a bomb.

“-turn around, I need you to turn around, _Winn_.” She’s talking so fast her words don’t mean anything anymore, but her voice cracks on his name.

Kara Danvers is dead. This isn’t real. His mind’s playing tricks on him, he can’t see for tears anymore and this isn’t _fair_ , she’s not real she’s not real she’s not real-

“I’m real- Winn, I’m real! I’m here! Look at me, I’m _real_ , Winn-”

Fist tightening around the detonator, he can’t look, he wants to cover his ears, he can’t listen to this, Lillian killed her.

“-I’m not dead! We faked it to trap CADMUS, J’onn was going to tell you, we knew CADMUS was targeting me, we were a step ahead the whole time!”

Pressing the detonator to his chest, he shakes his head. “You’re dead.”

“I’m not dead! Winn please-”

“You’re not real.”

“I’m _real_.” She’s trying not to cry but the words rip at her throat.

“No.” She’s not real. He looks anyway.

Kara’s face contorts with grief, lips pressed together and eyes red. She’s crying as much as him, hand pressed against the glass.

The detonator, heavy in his hand, is ready to blow. Forgetting it for one second would be all the opportunity it needed to destroy everything. His thumb’s settled on the trigger, but Kara glances towards it and he’s as much a bomb as the one in the backpack. He could go off at any second and no one could do anything about it. He still even can’t tell if Kara’s real, how the hell is he supposed to know what to do?

If she is real… there’s the deactivation passcode. All he has to do is type it in; it’s too late, he’s always going to be this person but he doesn’t have to follow through.

If she isn’t real…

Does it matter?

Holding it up, he types in the passcode and there’s a faint click from the detonator as it shuts down. He throws it aside- Kara shouts, Lillian flinches- and he drops to his knees by the bomb to grab a fistful of wires, yanking them clean out.

They’re dangerous, and they need removal, but the explosives aren’t a bomb anymore. 

The room’s silent. Winn drops the wires and Lillian scrambles across the floor, away from him and the bag. They’re both shaking, and he can’t look at her.

It’s too late now- she gets to live.

He’s not really aware of moving, but the door’s open and Kara throws herself into Winn’s arms. Grabbing her back automatically, his eyes fix on some spot over her shoulder and he’s numb again.

The only thing that registers is Kara. He even starts to hear her crying, but it’s like she’s still a room over and there’s a closed door between them. He wills himself to hear it, holding her tighter. Her breathing’s jagged. Now she’s holding him she’s sobbing and she can’t control it, but she’s not trying to, arms wrapped so tightly around him he’s not sure she’ll ever let go.

Hands moving to her waist, he eases her back enough to press a kiss to her forehead and wipe her eyes. “Shh.”

“I’m real,” she says, catching his hand and pressing it against her cheek.

He nods. “It’s okay, I know.” 

“What- _what_?”

He can’t think about it yet. Not here. “Later.”

A thousand questions flash across her face but she nods, nudging him aside and stuttering into her comms that Lillian Luthor is in custody and she’s going to need a bomb squad to get rid of some explosives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn't see that coming didja \o/


	3. Chapter 3

Hands clasped into fists around air, Winn tries to stay present, but it slips away. He can’t hear her talk and he’s aware someone’s guiding him somewhere- Supergirl, she smells like sweat and Alex’s apartment- but he’s not really sure where they are until they’re stood outside the DEO’s still-sealed doors.

“-they can’t figure out how to open it.”

Gesturing for her to pass over her comms, he talks to one of the technicians for twenty minutes, getting her to wiping all the operational changes made in the last twelve hours. He knows she’s managed it when the shutters clunk into action, restoring the building to as it was when Winn walked in this morning.

Passing the comms back, for a few seconds he’s on automatic and he walks into the DEO. Superman passes him, muttering something to Kara as he leave, but Winn doesn’t hear it.

He stops at the top of the stairs. The whole room stares at him.

“Agent Schott.” J’onn is all the way below him, stood by the screens, but he doesn’t need to raise his voice to be heard. “My office, please.”

Winn nods, but his feet don’t know how to move until two hands steer him in the right direction. Mercifully, James doesn’t ask any questions and waits with him, saying nothing.

Winn would love to know what the hell’s supposed to happen next.

J’onn strides in, and leaning against the desk, he holds his hand out like he’s expecting something. Winn pauses, pats himself down- he finds the gun, still shoved in his belt. He hands it over. He didn’t even notice.

Circling around the desk and sitting properly at it to speak, J’onn puts the gun down on the desk between him and Winn’s not sure if it’s a threat or a reminder. Even after disarming the bomb he could have put a bullet between Lillian’s eyes and killed her anyway, he could’ve been a murderer in any number of ways-

Bile rising in his throat, he launches himself at the wastepaper basket and retches long after he’s thrown up. 

There’s a hand resting on his back and a quiet voice telling him to breathe, and he listens to James until he can get back to shaky feet and stagger back to the chair. J’onn gives him a cup of water and asks a question, but Winn doesn’t hear it. Without prompting, he asks again.

“Better?”

Winn shakes his head, staring past J’onn. What is he?

“Agent Schott, I need you to say something.”

Winn blinks.

“Hey, man, talk.” James puts his hand on Winn’s shoulder.

“Are you with us, Agent?”

Hands clenching into fists, nails digging into his palms, Winn brings himself to the present. “Thought you read minds, sir.”

“That doesn’t normally stop you talking,” J’onn says, and Winn huffs.

“Rude.”

Although he’s been at Winn’s side this whole time, it only just occurs to him James is touching him. There’s no way he knows everything, none of them do yet, but when they do-

“I know.” J’onn levels his gaze at Winn.

-they’re going to find out. Supergirl, Guardian, Alex- friends with a murderer? It doesn’t work.

“No one died.”

“I’m pretty sure building a bomb to kill someone is intent.” Winn doesn’t flinch when James draws his hand back.

“What?”

More people walk in, and Winn lowers his head.

“Winn.” Alex sounds too calm, too quiet. She knows.

Kara presses a gentle kiss to his temple, and he looks up at her. She’s still crying. He throws himself at her and she doesn’t budge an inch, hugging him tight and he buries his face in her shoulder, breathing her in.

“I love you,” he murmurs. 

He doesn’t care that she’ll never say it back again, he doesn’t care that he’s lost his best friend because she’s alive. Besides, a life without him in it might be better.

Behind them, J’onn explains what happened to James, a brief summery that doesn’t skim lightly over what Winn did. James just seems stunned, looking to Winn, who just hides his face again. Maybe if he just holds on, she won’t let go.

Eventually, James says something, but it’s in low tones to J’onn. “Should I call Lyra?”

“I spoke to her at about… five, maybe? I told her I was fine. Just leave her be,” Winn says. She doesn’t need to know, not yet.

“Oh, no, we-” James look to J’onn.

“We thought you were in some kind of danger.” J’onn clears his throat, and Winn pulls back from Kara, who grabs for his hand. It’s like she believes he’s alive as little as he believes she’s real. “We called Miss Strayd several times, and she said she got through to you once but you sounded distracted and strange and we couldn’t get hold of you at all. We assumed, with the building under siege and you missing, that we were under some kind of attack.”

Winn blinks. “I thought you’d set the FBI on me.”

“They were made aware you were missing.”

As a victim. It never even occurred to any of them Winn might have been behind it. He’s seen to it that they’ll never trust him that much, at least.

“As far as anyone outside this room is concerned,” J’onn says, and Alex shuts the door, “there was a system malfunction. The building shut down, no explanation. I ordered Agent Schott to waste no time in helping Supergirl, not trying to figure out what was wrong with the building, but I reported you missing in fear of CADMUS realising Supergirl was, in fact, still alive.”

…no.

“He was with us the whole time,” Alex nods. “At my apartment.”

They can’t risk this. “I nearly blew up a building-”

“You know,” Alex says, turning to Kara, “it’s such good luck that a DEO agent found that bomb and was capable of disabling it before anyone was hurt.”

Kara’s expression turns to steel, and she nods once. James bows his head, smiling to himself, but Winn doesn’t understand.

These people are heroes and soldiers and leaders and they’re abandoning everything they stand for. The world needs them, he’s not worth it.

He never belonged anyway. 

He waits. It might only take seconds for them to change their minds.

“I can read the mind of every person in here, Agent. I assure you that none of them are agreeing to this easily.”

“That’s not true,” Kara murmurs, squeezing his hands.

How can she say that? “You’re _Supergirl_.”

“Not right now,” she says, steady and sure.

“I nearly killed her.”

“I don’t care.”

It occurs to him he might have dropped the dead man’s switch, and this is some strange kind of hell he’s ended up in. “This is a lie you won’t ever be able to take back.”

“Fine.”

He’s dangerous. The genetic time bomb went off and whoopsie, turns out he’s a murderer as much as his dad, they can’t ignore that, they shouldn’t protect someone who can’t be trusted-

He sees Kara’s face. Then again, she’d believe in Winn even if he killed a hundred people, her judgement isn’t exactly logical. This is the woman who believed in Astra. She’d believe in anyone.

“You’re not the same as her.”

“Get out of my head,” Winn spits at J’onn.

Settled in his seat, J’onn doesn’t acknowledge what Winn’s said and shifts back to being the director. “You’re going to be relieved of your duties. Once you’ve taken time off, and had rigorous psychological evaluation, you will be allowed back in the DEO. I want you back at your desk as soon as you’re fit to be, we need you.”

“I don’t need therapy, I need a padded _cell_.”

“Winn-” Kara tears up again, and he wrenches his hands free of her, stumbling backwards.

“Put me in next to my dad, it’s all I deserve-”

“What good are you in a cell?” Alex asks, glaring at him.

“I can’t murder anyone.”

“You’re in pain, Winn, you’re hurting, you’re not- _a cell won’t help_.”

“It’ll stop me.”

Narrowing her eyes, Alex strides in front of him, closer than he’d like. “Who told you you’re allowed to give up?”

“I tried to murder someone- if there was ever a sensible time to give up on me, now would be it.”

“I murdered Astra.”

“You saved J’onn’s life.” That was different.

“She’s still dead. Lillian’s snug in a cell right now.”

“That’s not- for God’s sake.” He throws his hands up, turning away, but she grabs his arm and yanks him back around.

“You think we’re all squeaky clean? You think none of us lie awake at night thinking about the worst things we’ve done, the _worst_ parts of ourselves, wondering how anyone could possibly love us? You think you’re alone?”

Winn swallows.

“You’re not alone. We’re here.”

She’s bright and fierce and furious and it’s like her gaze is holding him up. There’s no turning back, that’s not how this works, he’ll never be the person they believe he is again-

“It’s never too late. Not when you have us.”

She doesn’t let up, she doesn’t let go, and he shakes her off because he can’t breathe properly and everything’s blurry, he’s pretty sure someone’s crushing his throat because he can’t breathe and someone’s screaming, he’s pretty sure someone’s screaming-

He’s screaming.

He can’t stop.

***

Winn doesn’t remember much between that and waking up in the med bay. Groggy, he glances around, and there’s chairs pulled up either side of his bed, the Danvers sisters and James and Lyra all waiting for him to wake up. Lyra’s tight lipped and quiet, fingers locked with his, and Alex explains that they sedated him, and Winn nods, head dropping back into the pillow.

He remembers enough.

It takes him a while to come around fully, and once he starts coming around he’s very aware of them all watching him. 

Raising her eyebrows, Alex catches James’ eye and he’s suddenly excusing himself to get coffee and Kara follows suit, saying she’ll let J’onn know Winn’s awake.

Alex explains he’s officially been signed off on indefinite medical leave, they just need his name on the dotted line. She also mentions the DEO’s onsite therapist he’s booked in with the next day, but if he wants to go private his healthcare plan will cover those costs too.

“We think you need to just talk at someone about it all, the sooner the better,” she says, “but where you go from there’s up to you.”

“Might take a few sessions to get the whole story out there.”

“That’s alright.”

Hauling himself to sitting, he takes a few seconds to adjust. He’s dizzy and his limbs feel heavy, like they’re clumsy, but he’s pretty sure the drugs are wearing off and the exhaustion remains. “Can I- um, when I can go home?”

Alex blinks, and her whole face drops the DEO agent straight-laced expression she pulls. “You- _whenever_ , whenever you’re ready, we’re not holding you here.”

“I want to go.”

“Course.”

He staggers out of bed but Lyra catches him. She’s quiet, murmuring at him to put his arm around her and let her take some of his weight. He knows they need to talk about it, but she’ll wait for him.

They promised each other that.

Kara hugs him and asks if she can come over sometime in the morning- Winn says yes because he’s not sure what he’ll wake up thinking- and Alex surprises him with a kiss to the cheek, hand cupping his face.

“You’re going to be fine,” she says, sure of it. “It might… it might take a while. You’ll need us, but that’s why we’re here. We’ll always be here for you.”

Her hand falls, and Winn tries to smile. “That’s what superheroes are for.”

“I’m here too.”

“I meant you too.”

They hold each other’s gaze, and drop it at the same time, smiling to themselves. Lyra takes Alex’s number down, just in case, and J’onn sees them out.

James drives back to Winn’s apartment and offers to stay. Winn agrees because he knows Lyra will want to be his rock but they’re all out of their depth and she might need someone to turn to.

She makes up the couch, and Winn hears her thank James for staying, and at least that was the right thing.

It’s not much. It’s a start.

That night, he doesn’t sleep much. It’s not nightmares because he just can’t relax, tense and curled up around Lyra, his thoughts more than enough to keep him awake.

He thinks he gets up first, ready to tiptoe through the living room but the couch doesn’t have James on it, and when he gets to his tiny kitchen it’s full to bursting.

Kara puts a cup of coffee in his hand, kissing his cheeks. J’onn seems to be designated chef, stood three sizzling frying pans, James setting out the plates next to him, and Alex watches everyone else sat atop a counter.

It takes him a second to breathe it all in, accepting Kara’s one-armed hug, and she looks up at him deeply seriously.

“There’s bacon.”

“You all would’ve failed as friends if there wasn’t.”

“Lots of bacon,” Alex agrees, sipping her own coffee. “You need a bigger kitchen.”

“You need to be more useful,” J’onn mutters, but Alex shrugs.

“I’m supervising. Delegation of duty, sir, it’s strategic.”

Winn blows gently on his coffee and risks a sip, watching his friends take over his kitchen. Yeah, he thinks. It’s not too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I've bummed you out and you need cheering up, this is a video of [10 tiny kittens running around a garden](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QS47v1j29ec)  
> If I haven't crushed you enough and you want to relive the pain through Jeremy Jordan and musicals [here's a playlist I made on YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLpzLCJejno_2LielhFVNJ38Lzmrs-BFse)
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


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